Op I hope you don't mind me hijacking this rq but I've had a whole ass analysis written out for a hot minute.
The Great Divide deals a lot with themes of complicated feelings towards home, especially a home you left to pursue fame, and a home that both doesn't want you to succeed but also doesn't really want you back. So of course there's a wealth of Ilya parallels to be drawn. Kahan seems to have written most of the songs from the perspective of his own friends and family speaking on Kahan himself.
Some of these comparisons are more direct than others, but some of them are more like me imagining Ilya listening to the song late at night and breaking down out of guilt.
First up, we've got American Cars (Alexei POV). I don't think Alexei feels as fondly towards Ilya as the POV of this song (at least not outwardly), but that wouldn't stop Ilya from drawing parallels if he listened to it and feeling fresh guilt over "abandoning" his family all over again. There's ofc mentions of a father losing their mind and the singer being able to call someone back home with ease, like how Ilya is so easily commanded to go back to Russia and bleed himself dry for his family.
Then we've got Downfall. Similar Alexei POV to American Cars, but with more bitterness ("I'm glad you left, but you'll be back" oh come on) and an added dash of being punished for trying to "open up to someone kind" (imagine him late-night to this post Tuna Meltdown).
This verse from Doors is very Tuna Melt
End of August would make him think of leaving Russia for Boston after every summer
23 (Ilya POV) is about a divide between siblings bc of addiction and hoping to preserve a better image of them in your head by never seeing them again. Definitely captures the pain and heartbreak of cutting his brother off. As much as it needed to happen, it couldn't have been easy at all.
Deny Deny Deny is another Ilya POV with his brother - being angry with someone but too exhausted by them to fight back.
And it's not just The Great Divide! So much of Kahan's music is perfect for Ilya. Homesick from the Northern Attitude album is very much how Ilya would feel about Russia in general.
In conclusion Noah Kahan is a musical genius and I spend far more time than is considered normal thinking about Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov.
My Shane and Ilya are both incredibly possessive of one another and quick to jealousy but while Ilya gets jealous in a âeveryone wants you but they canât have you, youâre mine and I will delight in showing everyone what theyâre missing out onâ way, Shane gets jealous in a âI will burn this club down with both of us in itâ way.
Since people liked this post of Ilya proving to the internet why Shane is a good partner, letâs have a sequel of Shane doing similar
Ilya is in a depression low and the fact that his hockey persona is still âbiggest assholeâ no matter what he does has been getting to him even if he wonât admit it. So Shane posts a photo compilation titled âEvery Reason Ilya Rozanov Is NHLs Biggest Assholeâ
-âBullies his teammatesâ with a picture of Ilya doing a celebratory fist pump next to Haas with his face in his hands, in front of a tv showing Ilya getting first in Mario Kart
-âBullies his competitorsâ with a picture of Ilya laughing and Scott Hunter looking like he wants to set him on fire with his mind as he holds a birthday card labeled âWoah! You made it to 100!â
-âBullies Hayden Pikeâ with a picture of Ilya and Jackie in the lake doing the Dirty Dancing lift while Hayden stands by with his hands on his hips and glaring
-âStealingâ with a group of pictures of Ilya wearing a Hollander 24 hoodie, wearing the Canadian Olympic fleece, and wearing one of Shaneâs old jerseys
-âDramaticâ with a picture of Ilya in a feather boa at a karaoke night at a gay bar, eyes closed as he is clearly belting out some song
-âTakes jobs away from janitorsâ with a picture of Ilya in an arena post-game and picking up litter people dropped in the hallway
-âBad role model to youthâ with a picture of Ilya and a kid at one of the camps sticking their tongues out at each other
-âChild abuseâ with a picture of Ilya playing paintball with a group of young boys
-âAnimal abuseâ with a picture of Ilya bathing an unhappy Anya in a kiddie pool in the backyard
-âDisturbing local wildlifeâ with a blurry picture of Ilya running away from a Canada goose
-âEncourages cavitiesâ with a picture of Ilya letting trick or treaters take handfuls of candy from a bowl
-âUnfair sales tacticsâ with a picture of Ilya taking pictures with people at a Girl Scout cookie sale table, the table surrounded by a crowd of people waiting and holding cookie boxes
-âTrespassingâ with a picture of Ilya shoveling a neighbors driveway
-âFashion crimesâ with a picture of Ilya in a pink baseball hat, a neon orange tank top, jorts, and neon green crocs
-âNot helpful at puzzlesâ with a picture of Ilya and David in front of a one thousand piece puzzle, both with their faces in their hands, pieces everywhere
-âOnly falls asleep during movies when its his husbands turn to pickâ with a selfie of Shane frowning at the camera and Ilya zonked out asleep on his chest
Guys we're gonna get to see Yuna and David getting along with Ilya in s2. They're literally gonna be nice to each other. They're literally gonna be hanging out and having fun. They literally like each other guys They're gonna have dinner together like it's normal and ask about each other's days. We are going to watch as Yuna hands Ilya a bowl of ice cream and a blankie guys I'm not ready I'm not prepared someone hold me
fic prompt/kink.. ilya cumming prematurely, like he's barely in there and can't help it
I gotchu baby here u go
â
âRemember That TimeâŚ?â
or A Hollanov Ficlet Ilya Would Like to Forget
rating: (mild) e | wc: ~1200 | tags: momentary anal, premature ejaculation, boys missing each other, Shane teasing by initiating dirty talk??? more likely than u think
â
Back then, Ilya had thought that their seven-year-long situationship was the most agonizing romantic trial he would be asked to endure by a higher power.
Then, it was the years driving between Montreal and Ottawa, constantly missing his boyfriend and aching in his chest when he wasnât holding him.
But those two periodsâŚthose two periods had nothing on this.
What was supposed to be a three-day trip to finalize a couple big name brand deals turned into a week-long mess in Los Angeles. Shane was calling every day, but his parents were staying in the hotel room next door, so volume level was a difficulty.
Ilya hasnât been without Shane for this long since they moved in together in Ottawa. Long ago, a week would be childâs play to them. Hell, even in the commuting days, Ilya would have gladly taken a week. Now Ilya is spoiled, addicted, unmoored without his husband to hold. The cottage is empty, echoey, barren without his moans and laughs and chirps. He knows better than to sulk, so he does his best to keep busy, playing with and walking Anya, kayaking or swimming, jogging, running drills on their practice rink, playing video games, anything to keep his mind off of how desperately he misses his beautiful, stable rock.
âOne more day, babe. I promise, I will be sprinting into your arms.â
âWe will need a bullet train to our bed if you want me to wait more than five minutes before getting my mouth on you without putting on a show,â Ilya says, his head lulling against the back of couch.
âYou can wait two hours.â
âAlone in a car with you? The hell I can.â
âParents will also be there.â
âNo they will not. I will pay for Uber.â
âYouâre insatiable,â Shane laughs into his phone, and he sounds all soft and sleepy. It makes Ilyaâs dick jump in his sweats.
âLet me see you.â
âNo, Ilya. As soon as that screen turns on, I know youâre going to be jacking off, and my parents are very much still awake.â
Ilya scoffs, affronted. âShane Hollander. You think so little of me.â
âOh, I think a lot of you, Rozanov,â Shane purrs, his voice shifting deeper and more sensual, and goosebumps erupt over Ilyaâs skin. âThereâs a lot of you to think of, isnât there?â
Ilya blows out a long stream of air through his lips. âNot fucking fair. You just said.â
âI know,â Shane says, and Ilya hears the smirk in his voice. âI just like to fuck with you.â
Ilya grinds his teeth and drags his hand down the length of his very hard cock. âTurn on the fucking camera and Iâll show you just how I like to fuck with you.â
âNice try, baby. Iâll see you tomorrow night, okay?â
âYou are the devil.â
âYou think that now, wait until you see how naughty Iâm going to be for you when weâre home,â Shane says silkily. âGoodnight, Ilya.â
He knows Ilya too well by now. He hangs up before Ilya can argue, try to curry favor with Shaneâs cock tonight. Ilya groans and resigns himself to his own hand, picturing exactly what he wants Shane to do to him tomorrow night.
â
Ilya caves, giving Shaneâs parents a ride to their own cottage, but he doesnât budge on having Shane in the passenger seat. They donât argue, both willing to doze off in the back after a grueling week. Ilyaâs hand doesnât let go of Shaneâs the entire drive. They both hug and kiss Yuna and David as Ilya drops them off. The closer they get to their own cottage, the harder Ilya squeezes his hand. He eventually takes their clasped hands and begins to grind them against Shaneâs cock as he drives.
âIlyaâŚâ Shane sighs, but itâs not bold enough to prompt him to stop. Shaneâs head falls back against the head rest, scooting his hips out slightly to ease the angle. âFuck, I fucking missed you.â
âYou have no fucking idea,â Ilya says, voice edging into a growl as he grinds harder.
The SUV screeches to a halt in front of the cottage, and theyâre out the door. Ilya is vacuum sealed to Shaneâs back as he futzes with his keys, unlocking the door and tumbling inside, Anya barking and nipping at their heels. Shane gives her the quickest greeting possible and Ilya kisses her on the head and instructs her to sit and stay. They trip over each other into the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they go, both entirely naked by the time they slam the door shut and reach the bed.
âFuck me,â Shane moans into his mouth, already stroking Ilyaâs cock, and he feels like he could come just from this if he kept pulling at him for more than thirty seconds. âI need that big cock so bad, baby. Need it pounding inside me, please,â he begs, growing more desperate as seconds pass.
âIâll give it to you, filthy boy. Gonna give it to you so fucking hard you canât breath for it, huh? Fuck you up to your fucking stomach. Up to your fucking throat. Christ, I missed you,â he rumbles, already working slick fingers into him carelessly, messily, opening him up as quickly as possible. Ilyaâs cock is pulsing on its own, and it feels precarious at best. If he had a single ounce of patience, he would dig out a cock ring, but he cannot bring himself to give a fuck. The only thing he wants on his dick is Shane. No toys, no condoms, just Shaneâs hole gripping around him like a fist until he spills inside.
âPut it in, put it in, fuck,â Shane groans, boosting his ass into the air for him.
âFuck, fuck, okay,â Ilya says, pulling his fingers free and lining up his cock. He shoves the tip inside, and he feels his stomach clench with how overwhelming the sensation is to have his husband wrapped around him again.
Shane whines, wriggling back onto him, forcing him deeper already, and Ilya is holding his breath as he makes small thrusts to sink inside him.
âFuck, Shane, donât-â
âCome the fuck on, baby,â Shane growls, and throws himself back onto his cock in one swift move, taking Ilya down to the base. All at once, the friction on his cock is too much, and he feels his stomach clench again and his balls pulsating, and Ilya gasps, digging his nails into Shaneâs hips. He fully whimpers as the unthinkable happens.
His forehead drops between Shaneâs shoulder blades, quiet as a church mouse as he reconciles what just transpired.
âDidâŚdid you justâŚ?â
âShut up.â
âOh my god,â Shane says quietly.
âIt has been long time, okay!â
âNo, itâs okay, itâs okay!â Shane assures, reaching back and grabbing Ilyaâs hand. âIt happens. Not a big deal.â
âFuck,â Ilya groans, collapsing against Shaneâs back and forcing him down onto his stomach. âIâm staying inside until Iâm hard again.â
Shane cranes his head around, raising an eyebrow. âYouâre gonna make me wait until youâre ready again? I donât think so, baby.â
Ilya moans in embarrassment, kissing Shaneâs neck to distract himself.
âCome on, quick shot,â Shane jabs lightheartedly. âI bet if you let me fuck your mouth youâll be good as new. What do you think?â
Shane is on his back with Ilyaâs face between his legs before he even thinks of a proper response.
I'll Believe in Anything by Wolf Parade has become a fascinating Pavlovian trigger for me wherein upon singing along to the first few words I burst into a fucking flood of tears and buckle to my knees
Shane âdo it scared, but do itâ Hollander. We forget to put respect on his name. Shane applying an achievement mentally to everything he does. Shane saying, fine, Iâll fucking do it:
Go to Tampa, get his man â
Show his man that he cares â
Get man to his luxury wilderness getaway, ply him with burgers and beer and kicking around a soccer ball and video games and honestly and tenderness and solitude â
Make plan to keep man forever, AND preserve their fucking lives and careers â
Look at parents and says âno actually he fucks me good and I love him, no more lies, and also weâre all gonna be a family now Iâm done with compartmentalizingâ â
Win another fucking Stanley cup using latent adrenaline and serotonin from landing hottest baddie in the NHL â
Propose marriage like a boss: candles, ring, forgot second ring but who cares, carpet frottage, sincerity â
âI choose him. Come on, Ilya.â â â â â â â
Donât mind me. Just thinking about the first time Shane fingers Ilya. (If this is covered in the books I donât remember so go with it. Thatâs an order) 18+
Not proof read.
In all their years exploring each other, it just never came up.
Years might be a stretch. More like snapshots of time, stolen greedily by hungry hands and mouths. Their hookups were always intense, sure, but time constraints didnât exactly allow for much deviation.
They both knew what they liked- Ilya liked to fuck, Shane liked to get fucked. There was variation here and there, a pair of ill advised fuzzy handcuffs, some spanking and dirty talk and all those filthy little things. It just never really occurred to Ilya to switch up the formula too much.
But now?
Now they have time. Ilya is in Ottawa. Shane is in Montreal. Each meeting is still too brief, but longer than theyâve ever been used to.
Itâs abrupt, the moment he chooses to bring it up. Post-orgasm haze, all sweat and heaving breath. Heâs collapsed, full weight, onto Shaneâs chest.
Open mouthed, lidded eyes, so disgustingly in love he thinks he might throw up. How this impossible thing is his- he canât begin to fathom.
âShane.â
âYeah?â Shane is just as breathless, still coming out of that fuzzy space he enters when Ilya fucks him hard and deep and fast.
âI want you to finger me.â Ilya says, matter of fact and with no hint of trepidation. Just hard earned confidence and ease.
âYou do?â
âYes. Would be hot.â
âHave you ever-â
âNot with anyone, no.â
Thereâs a momentary pause and Ilya can hear the gears turning in his boyfriendâs head, and the beginning of a thought spiral. He grabs Shaneâs pec and gives it a squeeze- a playful, grounding gesture.
âI have done it by myself. Was not very good, but I figure it would be different. With you.â Ilya looks him in the eyes, then. Full of adoration so plain itâs etched across every line and divot in his face.
Shane is quiet, still processing- so Ilya continues.
âPlus it seems so good for you. Always begging for it, uh?â He grins, wolfish.
Shaneâs hesitance is extremely short lived. He canât help but smile, the statement too true to even teasingly refute.
Of course it would be different- it would be fucking hot. Insane, actually. Shane needs it immediately- needs to see Ilya experience that feeling.
The next night, they fall into bed and inevitably start making out, the hunger growing into something too big to contain.
Clothes fly off, and thereâs a competition over who can get them in the laundry hamper across the room. It soon gets forgotten when every item is off and Shane is naked between Ilyaâs strong, hairy thighs.
âYou still want this?â Shane breathes into Ilyaâs skin, inhaling the scent of him and getting dizzy on it.
Ilya bites his lip and nods, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a fond smile.
That smile is replaced by surprise as Shaneâs large hands grope the underside of Ilyaâs thighs and force them as far as they go towards his chest.
Ilya is nowhere near as flexible as Shane, so the stretch is a struggle, but nothing he canât manage.
âOh..â a choked gasp punches its way out of Ilyaâs lungs as Shane licks a filthy, wet stripe over his hole.
He wasnât sure what he was expecting this to feel like, but he didnât expect it to feel so⌠exposing. So intimate, and raw, and so fucking good. Is this what Shane felt every time?
Jesus.
Shane continues, fingers splayed and digging into Ilyaâs flesh hard enough to bruise. Good- Ilya wants to remember this.
Torturous minutes pass as Shane works his tongue inside, and Ilyaâs already panting.
âSo good for me, malchik, fuck..â
Shane pulls back a moment.
âYou like it?â and fuck- heâs so earnest in his desire to know that heâs pleasing Ilya.
âFuck, yes. Your mouth, MoyĂ LyubovâŚâ
Shane re-centres himself and spits on Ilyaâs hole and watches how it responds, transfixed and so fucking hard he can feel his pulse in his cock.
Ilya is just as hard, dick throbbing and jerking against his stomach untouched at the feeling of Shaneâs saliva running down onto the bed, filthy and ruinous.
Shane reaches for the lube, thrown haphazardly on the side of the mattress, and squeezes a generous amount between his fingers.
âReady?â He murmurs, lust bitten and eyes dark.
âYes, fuck. Want to feel you.â
Fingers begin circling the tightness, unyielding and showing the first sign that Ilyaâs a little more nervous than heâs letting on.
âRelax, Ilya, itâs okay.â Shane comforts him, delicately brushing the pad of his finger over the muscle.
Ilya breathes in. Relaxes. His cock twitching and dribbling precum onto his happy trail. He may be going out of his mind.
The tip of Shaneâs finger breaches, and Ilya freezes.
This feels really fucking weird. Intrusive and a little uncomfortable, and-
Oh.
Oh fuck.
There it is.
Shane presses his finger in all the way, curling it to nudge against Ilyaâs prostate as he peppers gentle, barely-there kisses over the weeping head of Ilyaâs cock.
Ilyaâs skin is already vibrating. A deep, rumbling pleasure spreads from his gut, overtakes every limb in a warm flush that has him feeling electrified. Like the next touch might kill him.
âOh my god, Shane, fuckâ he rasps out.
And then he does something Shane has never experienced before, in all the years theyâve been fucking.
Ilya whimpers. High in his throat, like it was so involuntary he couldnât stop it escaping.
His skin is flushed a deep red, and when Shane adds a second finger, he has to close his eyes so he doesnât cum immediately.
God, Shaneâs hands⌠his fingers are thick, and long, and so perfect. Theyâre so fucking deep inside him that Ilya feels like theyâre in his fucking stomach.
This shouldnât feel this revelatory, but Shane is rapidly melting Ilya into sweating mess. He looks utterly debauched- curls wild and matted to his forehead, chest rising and falling rapidly, legs and abs straining with the effort not to cum.
âFuck youâre so tight, so fucking hot, youâre so fucking hot Ilya, love you so much.â Shane rambles, pressing praises into Ilyaâs skin with his lips.
Before he can even prepare, Shane takes Ilyaâs cock in his mouth and all the way down his throat and fucking his fingers in and out of Ilyaâs clenching hole in one movement.
Ilya nearly cries.
Itâs so intense. The wet, suctioning heat of Shaneâs perfect throat constricting his cock, the pads of Shaneâs fingers brushing so deep inside him.
âFuck, fuck, Shane-â Ilya gasps, trying to warn his loving boyfriend, â-mâgoing to cum, youâre going to make me cum down your fucking throat, fuckâ
A few more strokes and Ilyaâs entire body is seizing up and heâs cumming in hot spurts over Shaneâs tongue and gripping his fingers like a vice. The ecstasy almost tangible, like something he could reach out and grab, racks through his whole body like heâs been hit by a truck.
Itâs so much longer than his usual orgasms, and by the time it subsides, Ilyaâs vision has blacked out and Shane is cradling him in his arms. He doesnât even remember Shane pulling out or coming back up to comfort him.
âYou okay?â Shane asks into the shell of Ilyaâs ear and kisses all over his face.
âMmf.â
Ilyaâs eyes are closed and heâs trying his best to regulate his breathing and get all of his systems back online.
The first system is âbeing a little shitâ.
âWas ok. Your technique is clumsy.â He grins, knowing full well that Shane knows heâs bullshitting. Thereâs no faking that much cum.
âI guess youâll have to teach me.â Shane smiles dopily like a cartoon frog, all sweet and saccharine.
âMm. Yes, many many lessons for you to learn.â Ilya jokes, before turning a little serious. âIt was fucking crazy. Cant believe we did not do it before.â
âMe too. But weâve got time, now, right?â
âYes, time to work through your extensive list of sex things you want.â
âI donât have a listâ
âNo? You donât want me to sit on a cake for you? Tickle your balls with feathers?â
laughing about the idea of ilya having a secret game he plays with himself about how long it takes after sex until shane starts complaining about the mess
and yeah yeah driving shane out of his mind with pleasure is because he's beautiful when he feels good
but it is ALSO about ilya continually trying to beat his own high score about how long he can take shane's brain offline
the magic of heated rivalry is that no one told connor storrie that this is yummy delicious dessert tv show. he read these scripts dramaturgically while standing next to the soda machine at his server job and went to set with a mission to impress the ghost of sir laurence olivier
Recommending Heated Rivalry to some people is so odd because it's like. Yes it made me weep openly. Yes it made me feel stronger and more diverse emotions than any show in the past decade. Yes it deserves every single one of its awards and accolades. Yes it has incredible writing music acting and cinematography and is a treat for all the senses. Yes it's all I've been able to think about since January to the point of distraction. Yes I think it could sweep the Emmys. Yes I've watched it five billion times and will rewatch it five billion more. No I will not watch it with you. Do it yourself
my unpopular opinion (i think?) is that shane doesn't really use pet names on ilya, at least not at first and not before he works through some of his internalized homophobia, and then, the first time he absentmindedly drops a 'babe' on ilya, ilya nearly brains himself on the nearest surface
like everything with them, it happens during sex first. ilya's eating him out slow and sloppy, spit dripping down his chin, two fingers teasing at shane's prostate, when shane pulls his hair and whines "ilya, baby, please."
blood rushes to ilya's dick so fast he almost blacks out. baby. he pulls away. shane whines again, pulls again, begs again, "nononono don't stop, baby, please--"
"say it again," he croaks. he'd meant it to come out stronger than that, but he's fighting shane's hold and flailing for the lube and trying to slick himself all at once while his brain goes baby baby baby he called me baby i'm his baby.
"please."
"not that. what did you call me? call me that again."
he lines himself up while shane tries to collect himself. finally recognition lights his eyes. he sniffles. "...baby?"
ilya sinks into him with a groan. shane's tighter than they usually like, but he keeps pressing forward anyway, through the stretch, through the heat, through their combined cries of pleasure, and he fucks shane until neither of them can speak.
after that, shane quickly learns calling ilya "baby" is the quickest way to make his brain stop working. ilya gets him a ginger ale from his parents' fridge, shane says "thank you baby" and ilya walks into the wall. they're coming off the ice after practice, shane says "hey babe don't forget--" and ilya trips over his own skates and almost causes a ten-Centaur pileup. shane says "babe will you--" and ilya stands up so fast he bangs his knee on the table.
but he never gets embarrassed no matter how ridiculous he looks, and he never chirps back no matter how relentlessly he's mocked. if anything, he leans into it all, puffing out his chest and playing up his reactions until shane's belly laughing with delight.
"is only reaction when you are shane hollander's baby," he declares. "only natural. no other choice. you would not know this. you will never understand. he is mine, and only i am his baby."
Shane getting mad that Ilya swallowed the first time they blew each other because âthis guy was determined to one-up him at every turnâ makes me giggle and kick my feet. My competative boy was goaded into letting the slut ways take over.
